


Permanent Stain

by Sevargs



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Alternate Universe, And Goku is a precious muffin, Body Modification, Comedy, Day Two Themes, Humor, M/M, Piercings, Tattoos, Turles is an ass and also a plot device, Vegeta being Vegeta (Dragon Ball), some suggestiveness, tumblr: kakavegeweek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-18 06:06:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17575271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sevargs/pseuds/Sevargs
Summary: A chance encounter lands Goku in a tattoo parlor, looking for what turns out to be prickliest artist he could have ever found, for the most complex design he could ever ask for; and he was warned this man was obsessive. They weren’t kidding.[Kakavege Week 2019 - Day Two ]





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to dreamyghost, cosmicmewtwo, and my wife for being the sets of eyes to witness this shitshow before I fixed the errors. You are all invaluable and I hope you win the lottery.
> 
> This is for day two of kakavege week 2019, each chapter is a different theme, for the themes of: 1. Costume Party, 2. Poison, 3. Magic, 4. Pain Kink, and 5. I love You.

They stepped into the shop, greeted with a single bell. Nothing extravagant, just a short chime. Its only purpose, to call attention to any who might enter, at least held true and someone’s voice called a greeting from a place just out of sight. 

“Gimme just a sec, I’ll be right up there.”

Waiting for the shop’s current attendant to come into view, the two who stepped in, took the time to look around. The front of the parlor had dark painted walls adorned in photos with silver frames, and the lights came down to illuminate the rows of artworks on display. From the door to the edge of the counters, different sized frames were pressed together, leaving very little room for the black paint to peek through from behind—and yet, such tight placement didn’t appear cluttered. Corner to corner, more frames stretched and led back around to the other end, and both visitors glanced at each other from opposite ends of the entrance. 

“I think this is definitely the right place, Goku. Look at some of these artworks,” a woman spoke to her companion, nodding over to a few particular framed photos. “These look similar, don’t they?”

“Ah, yeah, that’s exactly like what that lady had,” he nodded, very enthusiastic. He rummaged through a pocket for his phone, to thumb through his own photos to bring up the one he needed to compare with. He was on a mission and so far, this had been the best lead for what he wanted. Other promising ones had turned out be busts, but surely, after the picture he took the previous night, he had to be on the right track. 

Holding up the phone, he zoomed in on the photo of the girl’s back. Even in the dim lighting, the intricate details were so well laid and stunning that Goku had actually made...a bit of a scene in order to get the photo at all. He needed to have the reference once he saw the sheer amount of fine work and the scale of it. The gentle flow of the Koi fish on her back had blended so perfectly in with her frilly costume, that he’d almost thought it was part of her dress. He almost thought it was an expensive fabric—like he’d expect of one of Bulma’s friends to wear. 

But when he’d turned his head and saw the gentle curve of her back, dipping down to the waistband of a skirt, he’d realized it wasn’t fabric at all. Maybe it was paint. Maybe that was why he reached out and touched her. To see if it was paint. Of course, that didn’t excuse him from having done so. In retrospect, it was rude to intend to smudge her paint just to see if that was what it had been; but ultimately he determined that the beautiful array of lines and colors—flowing and yet detailed down to the hundreds of individual scales—were part of her skin. This artwork was a tattoo. This was what he wanted!

“She was kind to tell us where she had it done after you accosted her.”

“I didn’t cost her nothin’.”

A sigh followed immediately after and the woman shook her head, placing a hand to her forehead. “This is why I didn’t let you come alone, you know. You can’t be trusted when you’re with me, let alone without me.” 

“Aw, c’mon Bulma...I did say I was sorry…” he avoided direct eye contact, because he knew she was giving him that look again. He’d nearly avoided being punched in the face by Bulma’s guest and caused everyone to stop what they were doing to sort out why he’d put his big hands on her bare back. Luckily, he was actually practiced in martial arts, with good reaction time, and hadn’t just come to Bulma’s party in a karate costume to be cute—he was just being lazy and didn’t care about dressing up. Her initial screeching had startled him, and even he was prepared to fight whoever touched her...Until he realized it was him and then he apologized profusely. So much so, that everyone was then confused. 

The whole ordeal was wild ride and Bulma wasn’t ready to let go of it, reminding him that he needed to remember that people had boundaries and he wasn’t actually raised by actual monkeys. 

But he really needed to know where her artwork had come from. When she was done threatening to leave her handprints on his cheeks, and with Bulma’s gentle explanations, she finally understood what he was so fixated on. Her tattoo was on display and he wanted it. Not that specific one, but that quality. 

“Hey, missy, what can we do for you?” A man’s voice called and both heads turned up to a rough voice. Goku was a big man, but this man was bigger. For a moment, Goku didn’t respond, he was distracted by big arms and a wide chest—a man who looked like he probably came off a wrestling circuit and Bulma must have noticed that, because he cut him off before he could even say a word. 

“Goku, focus, we’re here for a reason, you fight obsessed meathead,” she pulled him by his shirt, so he was standing right beside her. She put a hand on her hip and shook her head, tilting it back toward to the mountain of a man. “I’m sorry, he sees big muscles and gets worked up. We had someone recommend this place. Said you have artists who do big scale works? She said hers was done by a guy named Turles? This knucklehead is looking for a pretty large piece.” 

The big bald man raised a brow and glanced over Goku, “Oh yeah? You got any ink on you already or is this a first? You know what to expect right?” 

“I’ve looked into it, talked with a lotta artists...they usually back out when I show em what I want though…” Goku chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. 

“Well, now I’m intrigued, I’m Nappa. We gotta few stubborn punks back here who might be up for the challenge; but let’s take you back here, get with him and see what you’re looking for first.” Nappa motioned to them and Goku grinned toward Bulma. She chuckled and patted his back, right behind him. 

The shop itself was clean, spotless, and smelled strongly of antiseptic. Bulma said that was a good sign, so he was already encouraged. He could see that their work setting was open and brightly lit, and their equipment was organized and put away when it wasn’t in use. The individuals themselves had arms full of tattoos and numerous facial piercings, some wild hair styles and no dress code, but the practices were very meticulous from what he could see. Gloves were in use, and the two he could see working had masks, and clearly laid out materials for clean up. Look for stuff that won’t contract you a disease, Goku, was what Bulma said. 

“Hey Turles, found another body double of you,” Nappa abruptly cackled as they walked by another man sitting at a computer with a graphics tablet. He tilted to the side and eyed them and Goku blinked back at him.

“...What the hell, where are they coming from—” Turles pointed the tablet pen at him accusingly. 

“Oh wow Goku he does look just like you,” Bulma she patted his shoulder. “Just...more sunbaked and with more mental acuity…”

“You know, I’m going to take that compliment.” 

“These two are here on a recommendation. Guess they got a big piece they need. Your clone does anyway. Said they saw somethin’ of yours.” He started, and Bulma moved over to Goku to prompt him to pull the picture open on his phone again. She pointed for him to show the photo to the man, and he leaned forward a bit to see what was being presented. 

“Ah, yeah, I remember that, I can’t take all the credit for that one, though. I didn’t do the scales on that. That was a joint effort. I did to the rest of it, but that was an endeavor. You’re looking at a long project somethin’ of that size. Many sessions. And if you’ve never been inked, you should have a pretty good tolerance for pain.” 

“Oh don’t worry about that, this fool probably doesn’t feel pain anymore,” Bulma looked at him and shook her head, disapprovingly, because his recklessness was largely the reason she was saying that. He had tendencies of getting himself into trouble… Whoops. 

“Did you have a design in mind?” 

“Yep!” Goku responded immediately, ready to get that part over with. He was either going to be told no now, or no later. And he’d rather hear it now, than go through all of the efforts and see them back out. “I have a better picture of it, on a file that can be pulled up on a computer, but I keep a printed copy for showing it. I have it on my phone too.” He offered, reaching for his back pocket. 

“On your phone? Email it to me instead, so I can see it. I’ll pull it up here. If we’re gonna seriously look, I wanna see it for real.” 

Goku paused and grinned. That was more interest than he usually got. More often they just looked at the print out, but he wanted to see it in its real clarity. Goku looked over at Bulma, and handed her his phone. She exhaled at him and shook her head again. He would fumble around forever trying to figure out how to send an email from the pictures menu. He only just got his phone. He wasn’t that great with it. When she did it, it was sent fast and Turles’ computer made a noise to indicate he’d already received it. 

The expression Turles had morphed slowly after he loaded the picture and blew it up. Steadily, a brow raising, from expecting to see a large design to seeing a large design of an alarmingly intensive amount of detail. “...How big were you wanting this again?” He leaned off a little to look at Goku from the side of the computer screen. 

“...Whole back…?”

“You know that this is going to take a very, very long time, right?”

“Uh huh…” 

“Hurt like a bitch, right? You don’t look like you have any ink on you, so that’s a huge first project. And this’ll be going over the spine and some ribs. It’s got heavy ink, super fine detail, shading, color. I mean, go big or go home, my guy, but that’s smacking it into orbit.” 

“...That’s not a no, is it…?” Goku didn’t bother to address any of his concerns. He understood them, but he wanted the answer more than the worries. The rest could be handled once he got beyond the real hurdle. 

“I mean...I’m gonna be honest with you, I’m not the one you wanna talk to, but,” and he paused, changing his voice to bring Goku’s eyes back up to him, after his words made him look down with a sensation of disappointment. “The guy who did the scales on your fish lady, might be willing to give it a go if you can sweet talk him enough. That’s the hard part though. He’s extremely prickly and if he doesn’t like you, he might tell you to go fuck yourself.” 

“I mean, the fish lady said the same thing and I put my hands on her. So as long as I don’t do the same to him, I’m at least off to a better start, right?” 

Turles paused and glanced up at Nappa, reaching for the phone next to him without breaking eye contact. “Vegeta’s gonna hate this guy, and I’m going to love every second of it.” He cradled the phone against his shoulder, the plastic receiver clicking against any number of silver earrings. “Yeah, Vegeta, come down for a sec, I got a challenge for you. Bet you can’t do it, you talentless shit.” Abruptly he hung up and looked back at them. “...Listen, it’s the only way to get him to respond in a timely manner.” 

Timely was correct. A door flung open, and the sound of boots stomping down stairs followed. There was no need to guess who Vegeta was, he made himself well announced, coming into the room, throwing glares at Goku’s tanned body double. He...was not exactly what Goku was expecting, but he seemed to fit the attitude that Turles said he would have. His expressions indicated he was definitely a prickly sort, anyway. 

“What the fuck do you want, Turles. Can’t you and Nappa handle handle new projects for one damn day. I just finished a massive one. Why aren’t either of you actually working?” 

“Our clients aren’t in yet, that’s why,” Turles waved him off, clearly used to his hissing. Goku watched them for a moment and wondered just how he was going to get him to agree if he’d just finished working on something large already...He’d be willing to put it off, if he wanted. 

Nappa came over to him with a book and opened it and Goku held his hands out to hold it while he flipped through it, selecting pages within it. “This is some of the catalogue. Our little in-house Prince over here is the detail oriented one, you’re gonna wanna beg him.” He grinned and flipped to a page that made Goku’s mouth open in awe. It was a fantasy castle inked into the side of a lady’s body, from her ribs to her hip. The shading and fine details were captured in subsequent pictures, so he could see how they’d healed so clearly. 

“Wow. That’s Exactly what I want. You can see every brick in the castle.” 

“Yeah, he’s obsessive, however. You’re going to be married to him for as long as it takes to finish it. He will follow up with you about your healing process, and everything. If he elects you, you’re stuck til he decides you’re done.” 

“That sounds like exactly what I want.” 

“And do you know how expensive this is going to be?” Vegeta’s voice cut in between Goku and Nappa and they turned back to see Turles showing him the image. The image was a dragon. A long, winding Chinese dragon. It’s body would even spill over his side a bit. Large claws, big teeth. “Thousands of goddamn scales.” 

“If you can’t do it, Vegeta. Just tell the poor boy now.” 

“It’s not that I can’t do it, and you know it. You can’t do it. You couldn’t do the damn scales on the Koi fish.” 

“I could do it. It’s just not my specialty we all have our strengths. Yours is in being a shitnugget, Vegeta. And being obsessive. This is basically the holy grail of obsessive. Look at this. It’s like the perfect chance for you to prove how big your dick is. You put this on his back and I’m pretty sure you beat us all. Even your old man will have to be impressed and not think we’re all just a bunch of hooligans.” 

“He’s always going to think you’re all hooligans.” 

“I’m trying for you, but he’s being stubborn,” Turles shrugged and looked over at Goku, who wandered over to Vegeta, once he was given his chance to worm in between their exchange. Turles seemed to know that Goku wanted to talk to him. 

“Would you pretty please consider doin’ it?” He asked, handing the book back to Nappa so he could clap his hands together and bow a little bit to this shorter, grouchy man. Vegeta was a whole head smaller than he was. Like Nappa and Turles, he appeared to have a worked out build to him, so he had to conclude that the group of them were possibly related somehow—or at least worked out together. He’d have to ask sometime! But he really wanted to get him to agree. He could tell he was a determined sort, if those pictures told him anything. “I really want the best for this tattoo…” 

“Listen, asshat, I’m not the best artist, so you’re looking at the wrong guy.” 

Goku shook his head and looked up at him, very determined. “I don’t need a flawless artist, just someone who’s really good an’ will take care of me and make every detail matter. It’s for my grandpa. An’ it’d rather have someone who’ll look after every lil bit, than someone who’ll make a pretty picture real fast and have it look all bad later.” 

“...God damn it...Still, you know this is going to be expensive, right? I am not cheap.” 

“Money isn’t an issue, that’s why I’m here,” Bulma wiggled her way over and leaned against Goku’s side, patting his chest. “I’m covering it, so don’t worry about that.” 

Her words pulled a brief silence and Vegeta stared at her for a moment. He scratched at his neck and then looked between Nappa and Turles quietly. He shifted a little bit and folded his arms. Clearing his throat, he spoke to his own associates. “Did either of you realize this guy brought Bulma Briefs with him, or are you that fucking dense?” He barked at them both. 

“Wait, what—” 

“That’s Bulma briefs—” 

“You stupid shits—I cannot trust either of you—this is why my father thinks your hooligans—because you are—.” He hissed at them both and turned back to the two guests. “Where did you hear about us from? Honestly, you can probably afford to go to the top of the country and you’re here?” 

“Goku wants to stick with small place with a personal experience.” 

“I costed a lady and she gave me a picture! And then told me where to go.” 

“Goku, don’t repeat things I say, good grief—” Bulma shook her head and then shared the same photos with Vegeta that were shown to the others, still in possession of Goku’s phone. “This girl had this tattoo. And Goku fell in love with it. Well, he fell in love with the work. Or something. It reached out to him...Or he reached out to her…? It was a wild party for the wrong reasons.” 

“...Why is he dressed as a clown?” 

She looked up at him, “that’s your take away from this?” 

“He’s acting like one, I assume that’s what he’s dressed like, but, what the fuck sort of parties do you host.” 

“It’s my martial arts uniform—” 

“Pipe down clown, the responsible people are talking. You’re going to sign his permission slip, correct?” Vegeta asked Bulma very seriously, glancing up at Goku. Goku was still clinging to his hope he was going to say yes. He hadn’t yet, but he sounded like maybe he was leaning toward it? 

“Yes. If you agree to it. I will pay you, very well. You know who I am. Goku is willing to suffer for it, I promise. I will tip you a Goku tolerance fee, even, if you do it. I know it means a lot to him. And we haven’t been able to find anyone willing to do it. It’s big, I know. Either their work wasn’t what he wanted, they weren’t clean enough for me, or they didn’t have the time for him.” 

“Listen, the moment I realized who you were, I already made up my mind. If you want me to suck his dick on the side, I’ll consider that too,” Vegeta’s tone was far too deapan and Turles dropped his tablet pen, scrambling to recover. 

“Son,” a deep voice pulled attention to the doorway, but Goku couldn’t see the source of the voice. Just a brief warning that seemed to tone Vegeta down before he could make another crude comment. “Keep it classy, for gods’ sake.” 

“Whatever, fine.” Vegeta grumbled and stepped back toward Turles, “Shithead, set him up with a starting appointment for me, while I discuss this thing and get his mom here to sign papers with him.” 

Goku grinned widely, unbothered by Vegeta’s attitude. He was kinda mean, but that was fine. Mean people didn’t really bother him all that much and it just meant he wasn’t going to hide anything from him. If he had something to say, he was going to say it. Bulma would have quickly shut it down if she thought it was all wrong, but she seemed to think his sour note personality was worth dealing with. 

He was just very lucky he actually showed up to Bulma’s dumb party or he’d have never seen the girl with the pretty fish tattoo.


	2. Toxicology

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theme: Poison

“So did you know, that banging your head against the wall for one hour burns 150 calories?” 

“...Huh, I mean, I can think of much better ways to burn calories than that, but I guess that would be one way to do it.” Turles remarked, next to them, working on another client. 

Goku flicked his phone, trying not to cringe at the sharp twinge against a shoulder blade. His instincts to move against it were hard to resist, but he fought it. Having Vegeta holding him down so forcefully did help, but he suspected he’d get an earful from him if he even twitched a bit. It was his third session and he’d gotten at least adjusted to process. When they said it would take a long time, they were not kidding; but he was fully prepared for that. Vegeta seemed to be quite dedicated to being hunched over him for hours on end without pause. 

Getting Vegeta to talk to him was...not very easy, he’d noticed, but he did try. He brought his phone and thumbed through silly facts pages to see if anything would actually interest him enough to make him engage in discussion, but often times, he dropped off the topic after a few sentences. He was tough. Turles was right, he was prickly. Fortunately, most of the time, someone else was there to talk. Even if Goku wasn’t used to how quickly they took shots at each other for no reason… 

“Did you know Cherophobia is the irrational fear of fun or happiness? Vegeta has that,” Turles nodded, with a snicker and Vegeta paused long enough to give him a middle finger—sneering behind his mask. 

“When I encounter fun, then I will tell you my response to it.” 

“Aw, you don’t have fun doing this?” Goku would have looked back at him if he was able to, but he had to remain still. “You seem so into it, though.” 

“It’s because he’s obsessive. We think it’s a personality disorder or somethin’.” 

“Turles, I hold grudges. Forever. Keep that in mind if you ever want ink from me again or if you call me to bail you out of jail. Next time I will leave you there. And then mail the police a list of reasons why you should probably stay there.” 

“See, that’s what I’m talkin’ about with that fear of fun, business. I haven’t done shit.” 

“Cept that whole drug thing, but who am I to disclose your personal business,” Vegeta had zero sympathy for the annoyed grunt and Goku just smiled and shook his head. He wasn’t going to tell on anyone. It sounded like a past thing anyway, but he also wasn’t under Turles’ needle anyway. Not his business! 

“Your customer face is really awful, Vegeta, damn.” 

“It’s just Fasha and Kakarot. One whom should have a punch card for your butchery, and the other’s going to be here forever.” 

“It’s Goku…” 

“Sorry kid, you sealed your fate the moment you showed him your ID. I told you his personality was toxic. If he didn’t have any actual skills, he’d probably be locked in a cage and sent to a circus somewhere. World’s pissiest little man.” 

“I guess it’s alright...I’m just not used to it. Everyone just calls me Goku… But it would be weird hearing you call me that now…” He still pouted anyway, flicking through his phone, watching his battery life start to hit low, for how long he’d been laying under Vegeta’s attention. 

“Kakarot sounds like a name you take to a fight with you, you said you were a martial artist, didn’t you? You’d sound more intimidating if I had to stand across the ring from you yelling, Kakarot—!, instead of Goku! That makes me feel ridiculous. That makes me feel like I need to be saved by you, not fight you. If I’m yelling your name, bitch, it better be to fight you.” Vegeta paused in his work, keeping his space clean and letting Goku have a moment of relief from the painful sensations while he laid the fine lines over his spine. 

“You wanna fight?” Goku stretched a little and turned his face, chin over his shoulder to puff his face at him. “I could take ya.” 

“What, out to dinner? You’re definitely an above the belt kinda guy, I’d kill you. Sock you right in the nuts and watch you go down with a smile on my face.” 

“Well, not now that ya told me. ‘Sides, ya may not be any fun, but ya are fun-sized, I’ll just pick ya up and pocket ya.” 

Turles cackled next to them, almost immediately. 

“Listen, you big animal,” he started at Goku, but abruptly interrupted myself in the middle of the barking laughter of his coworker, “—Turles, shut the fuck up, or you’re going to mysteriously disappear—” he threatened and redirected his threats again. Goku couldn’t help his grinning, though. Vegeta’s bellowing wasn’t all that terrifying to him. Maybe at first, but he’d come to understand it really was all just blustering. His personality was just rough. “I’m putting permanent pictures in you, and if you don’t want me to just draw dicks all over you, then you better check yourself.”

“Are ya...tellin’ me ta...watch my back? ‘Cuz that’s gonna be hard. Gonna need a mirror,” Goku tilted his head back to see Vegeta’s expression, and his brows turn together at his goading. “Hey, then I could watch you while you work!” He added, with more enthusiasm. “You know, just to protect against all them Dicks you talk about.”

“First of all, you wouldn’t even realize it was there until it was too late. Second of all, I wouldn’t let you watch me. You just lay there and look up dumb facts, and I’ll keep charging Bulma the tolerance fee for every time you make me waste brain space on a piece of trivia I didn’t need to know.”

“Did you know that Cows moo with regional accents?”

“I...what?”

“No, they do. Cows from different regions moo in different ways, depending on where they come from. Look it up, it’s true.”

Joining Turles in his previous round of laughter, was the woman he had been working on. Progress on her tattoo came to a halt to snicker at Vegeta’s response to Goku—a relatively frequent happening. “I can see why you want to be here when he works on this guy, Turles. This muffin is going to give him a stroke.”

“I told you, it’s like he’s perfected the art of being immune to Vegeta’s bullshit and it’s majestic.”

Vegeta growled, making a face at both of them and then an especially sour one at Goku. He had no immediate response and shoved Goku back face down—keeping his head away. He was evidently done with his back and forth with Goku’s nonsense for the moment and Goku had some sense to know when to not push his buttons—at least when he was holding a device that would leave permanent marks in his skin. He certainly was not being gentle, but Vegeta was not gentle. 

“Y’know, Kakarot,” Turles started.

“It’s Goku,” he huffed back at him, but was immediately ignored. 

“Vegeta’s usually not this talkative, so either you’re really doin’ a bang up job needling under his skin, or he likes you. And, good for you. Keep up the spectacular work. Because I’m here to watch his blood boil.” Turles turned his back from them and missed seeing the middle finger that Vegeta motioned at him. Goku was sure Turles was aware of it, and Vegeta was doing his best not to fall for his purposeful antagonism.

But Goku wasn’t the one Vegeta was prepared for. 

“How come he wouldn’t let me watch him? Is it because he’s shy?” He was genuinely curious, but that seemed to be a touchy question to ask, and he felt a shift in Vegeta—the needle lifted for a moment, getting back in place, like he was refocusing. 

“Stop asking him stupid questions, Kakarot. He’s a fucking moron. He’s only here to piss me off and you’re letting him. I’m not setting up mirrors in here because you’re bored. You’re going to be here for a long time. Get used to it. You wouldn’t be interested in watching me work any more than you’d be interested in watching paint dry. It hurts less if you’re not focused on it anyway.”

“I mean...it doesn’t really bother me much anymore. The pain I mean. I got used to that. You spent so long over my spine last time that I’m alright with it...I mean, I dunno. I think it would be neat to see. But wouldn’t wanna make you mess up or nothin’.”

“I wouldn’t mess up because you were watching, don’t get the wrong idea, idiot,” he grunted, pausing to clean up his skin a little bit. “But you’re not going to see some marvelous transformation happen before your eyes. You’ve asked me for small details over a large space, you gorilla.”

With a pout on his lip, Goku rested his chin on his arms. “I know, but I’d still be interested…”

“Like your attention span can hold for that long.” 

“Bet it could…” 

“No, Kakarot, just hush and let me work. Watch Turles butcher Fasha, I’m sure you’ll get some entertainment out of that.” 

“He’s just fillin’ in a lotta black, though. He’s not doin’ any pictures or anythin’, Goku couldn’t move very much to see what else may have been stenciled on her, but what he could see was just dark, heavy black. She wasn’t having the same level of detail that he was having done. Goku could see from her arms, that she liked her ink to be blockier and more like tribal style tattoos that he’d heard about. They looked nice on her, but they weren’t very interesting—not like what Vegeta was working on. Not even like the kind of work that Goku saw on Turles and Vegeta themselves. “Say, hey, who did the stuff you guys have? You guys do each other?” 

A poor choice of words, when it came to Turles. 

“I try, but Vegeta is a massive prude.” 

“Oh fuck off. Not if you were the last on this wretched planet.” 

“I meant your sleeves—” Goku whined at them both. They both knew what he meant, but Turles was almost villainous in his intent to twist everything into shot at Vegeta. Goku knew that Vegeta looked down his nose at Turles a bit, but Turles certainly didn’t help himself by poking him so hard. Goku like to poke him too. But he poked him in more fun ways… 

“Well, Nappa did one of my sleeves, when I first show up, and the other, got some of it done by your little obsessive troll himself, over there. But I’m not patient enough to get all my work done by him. But then I got the rest of it, all this blue stuff from the wrist up here, done by his old man,” Turles paused and lifted his arm to show Goku, dipping a plastic glove down his wrist a little bit to display how far the work went. “That’s who did all Vegeta’s sleeves. He’s a little Prince, only daddy can put permanent ink on him.” 

“That’s enough, Turles. Keep going and I’ll make sure your schedules never align with mine ever again.” 

But Goku’s interest was already piqued and he turned his attention toward Vegeta fully. He’d noticed his arms, but never really thought to ask. Other discussions had gotten in the way of it, or he’d been always faced away from him while he was doing his work. But when he did get to see, he’d noticed that his arms were covered, up to his elbows. The style was obviously not Vegeta’s, since he wasn’t gonna be doing his own arms. Turles answered the question of who did it, at least. Though, Vegeta seemed upset by that. He couldn’t imagine why, the art he had was really nice. 

He had two sleeves that nearly matched, only varying in the degree of small details. Cosmic scenes, with planets and stars. And sci-fi styled space ships. Though not detailed to the measure of Vegeta’s work, the style of it was cool enough to be immediately striking. Vegeta didn’t hide it, but he didn’t display it on purpose either. He rolled his sleeves up to work, and may or may not leave them that way when he was done. 

“Do ya like your sleeve tats, ‘Geta?” Goku asked, only vaguely aware of whether or not asking the question was a touchy subject. He didn’t think it was, but he appeared to be wrong. 

“I need to get something from the supply room,” Vegeta announce abruptly, putting his tools aside, and tucking everything away to step back for a moment. He snapped his gloves off and stood, stretching his hunched body for a moment. “I’ll be right back. I’m not done with your session yet.” 

Vegeta gave him no room at all to protest or ask him if he said something wrong. Clearly he had, and he didn’t mean it. But he wasn’t sure what he said, and he scratched his neck, trying to make sense of why Vegeta was so touchy. He thought he was in a relatively decent mood, but then he tilted weirdly. Goku didn’t get him. Talking about art made Vegeta sour. But he was an artist! Vegeta left the room and Goku had no choice but to wait for him to return. 

“When he comes back, he’ll pretend nothin’ happened. Just let it go. He’s no fun when when he’s moping,” Turles made him glance over. His near-body double was leaning over the woman in from of him, but talking to Goku, without much pause in Vegeta’s absence. “He’s determined to believe that he’s not a good artist because he wasn’t naturally as gifted as his old man. So he practices nonstop. He looks at the shit on his arms like a challenge instead of a modification. You’ll have better luck getting places with him, asking his dick size than asking his feelings about other shit on his body, kid. He’s infected himself with this idea he’s inferior because he’s not the best artist.” 

“But he’s really good…” 

“There’s no antidote for hardheadedness, Kakarot. Wish he’d knock it off, myself. I’d much rather pick on him when he’s being a bitch and not when he’s being depressed. It’s not really all that interesting heckling a sad person.” 

“You’re...actually just a mean person, aren’t you…” 

“You do catch on, good on ya.” 

Goku folded his arms and laid his head across them, waiting for Vegeta to come back. If he really did need something from the supply room, he must have been having a hard time finding it; but Goku had a feeling he didn’t really need anything, after all. He was a little sad to learn that Vegeta felt that he had to leave at all, to hide from his questions, but Goku knew not to ask, after. At least, not when Turles was present. Turles seemed to be an instigator and Vegeta was constantly on the defense with him around—though probably like that with everyone, anyway. Turles just had the best grasp on the buttons to press in the worst ways; when Goku liked to press the better buttons. He was almost similar to Goku, in that way...just...mean about it. 

But even he didn’t like to prod at Vegeta when he was being oddly withdrawn. Goku liked him better when he’d banter back.. Yet, Goku wanted to ask him more. Vegeta offered him a challenge without knowing it. No antidote, huh? Goku was stubborn too, did that mean he had the same affliction? 

He was going to have a whole bunch of time to try and do his own needling on Vegeta. Goku was curious and he was sure Turles couldn’t be there every time, to bait Vegeta’s bad mood. He’d just have to call and have his appointment moved at random and see where it ended up. 

Goku closed his eyes and waited for Vegeta to come back from hiding.


	3. Choice Words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theme: Magic

“So, if I ever wanted to add more to this thing, like, in the future, do ya think he’d do it if I really begged?”

“Add more, exactly where, Kakarot? You have exactly nowhere to add more to, at this point. He has lined and planned every space of your back.”

Goku turned in the chair, leaning against the backrest and folding his arms over. He was waiting for Vegeta to get back, sitting in the office doorway and bothering his old man—for the distinct lack of anyone else to bother at that exact moment. Goku had been there, religiously, for going on a year, and each of them had gotten more than used to his presence. Vegeta Senior had even gotten to the point where he could continue to crunch numbers while he listened to Goku rambling at him from the open door. Either he wasn’t listening at all, or he was just very good at multitasking. Given that sometimes he actually did answer his questions, Goku concluded that sometimes he was marginally aware of his words!

“I mean, like maybe on my arms, biceps and stuff, around the front of the shoulders. He could add his own flare if he wanted. He’s adding the design I want part for part, but he could make it his own a lil too, right?”

The clacking of keys paused for a moment and he earned a very brief, if dispassionate glance, “you keep trying this thing with him and I keep having to purposefully force schedule him vacation days so he’ll stop working ten weeks in a row straight. For practice.”

“I’m not doin’ anything...I jus’ think he’s really good an’ he won’t let me tell ‘m that. He thinks I’m lyin’.”

“Probably because not many people are as honest as you are, Kakarot. It disturbs all of us,” Senior went right back to his work, tossing back and forth with his attention of records and Goku—rather effortlessly. “My son went to collect Turles from jail, if that indicates what sort of behavior we expect. Not the sort that comes from you.”

“Oh wow, he’s bein’ released today? I didn’t know. Good for him!”

“And that is exactly why we all think something is wrong with you,” he placed a finger and thumb to his temple. 

“I jus’ like to give people a chance, is all.”

“Do not with Turles. He will turn on you in a second. Just a fair warning. That is not the point, however.”

“What was the point?” Goku frowned, leaning over the chair and scooting so close that the older man had to actually stop what he was doing and look down at him—completely derailed again.

“...How does my son focus with you.”

“He has superpowers.”

“He must, because you’re killing my train of thought.” He took a long moment to stare him down and then shook his head, reconnecting to what his point had been before Goku talked him away from what he was getting at. “Consider, if you will, not harassing my son’s insecurities for a session.”

“...insecurities?”

“You know what those are don’t you? Don’t try to convince me you have none of those, Kakarot, not even you are immune.”

“I mean...it’s not really...I just don’t see what the point in being so down about not being perfect at it is. He’s not gonna get better by beating himself up…”

“No, but he’s not nearly as much of a simpleton as you are, evidently. And unless you can figure out the magic words to make him just accept his misgivings, then don’t throw words at him wildly at all,” Senior’s voice trailed and he pulled a piece of paper from a notepad, having transferred all of the data from it into his computer. He balled it up and flicked it up into Goku’s face without any remorse. Goku jumped at the sudden motion, but then whined at him. All of his whining gained him nothing from the larger, older, much more stern carbon copy of Vegeta. 

“Maybe y’all just don’t throw enough words at ‘im,” he argued. 

“Kakarot, I mean it.” 

“You say stuff, but I don’t get it. How am I doin’ anything worse than Turles? He’s always makin’ ‘Geta mad, and you’re havin’ him go pick him up!” 

“I already explained this...It’s like explaining this to a chicken. I’m expecting you to start clucking at me before long… He doesn’t trust Turles, that makes Turles easy to deal with. No one actually trusts Turles. Other people don’t sit there and radiate positive energy all day. I do my best to maintain order, but I’ve collected a bunch of hooligans together and I don’t think at any point should there be any expectation for this to look like a big cuddly family.” 

“But you an’ him seem super close.” 

“He is my son. That isn’t blindly given trust. Your compliments are offending him and when you leave, he turns around and spends hours filling up sketch books like he’s never drawn a damn thing in his life. Don’t ask him to add his own art to your body if you’re not going to put more thought into your words than you have already. I do not have any idea how to explain that more clearly to you than that, Kakarot.” 

Goku leaned back, straightening his spine and letting the chair roll away just a little bit. The moment of silence grew wider between him and the father. The words of advice were more like words of warning, but Goku didn’t feel very threatened. Vegeta had every opportunity to fire him as a client along the way, but he never did. He never even came close to it and maybe it was because Vegeta was a bit obsessive. Once he’d started the project, he wasn’t going to stop until it was finished. Goku appreciated it, but he also felt like there was more to it. Goku was trying to tell him as much as he could, how highly he really did think of him. Vegeta was just very skilled in deflection. 

He took pictures relatively often with his phone, of the process of his tattoo, to send them to Vegeta and show him how the healing was going in between his visits. Vegeta was very adamant about seeing proof that he was taking care at home with the recovery between each session. Goku had no complaints. He used that as an excuse to send as many pictures as he could to Vegeta. He told him, every time, that he felt like each session was easier than the last; that each addition to the large dragon was becoming more and more impressive. One day, he was going to go somewhere and have his shirt off and blow someone’s mind, but Vegeta dismissed the sentiment entirely. 

He was just copying, was what he said. Goku frowned. That was stupid, copying or not, that was beyond a level that any average artist could do. 

Vegeta blocked him. 

And that was why he was in the shop. He’d called to make sure he still had his appointment and everything for the week, and he did, but Vegeta still wouldn’t answer him and it was apparent he really had just blocked him outright. All because he wouldn’t hear him have it out with himself. But it was silly. Vegeta was being silly and Goku would just show up to bother him in person, if he wouldn’t let him bother him over a phone. This wasn’t the first time it had happened and it likely wouldn’t be the last. 

Usually, he didn’t have to wait around for Vegeta to come back, though. Hanging around the shop while Vegeta was out, left him to his own devices and hanging out with Vegeta Senior did actually manage to make him think a little bit. Maybe he was going at it the wrong way. Instead of trying to throw compliments at Vegeta, like he’d been doing, maybe he shouldn’t do that anymore. That was what his father was getting at. He had a much better idea. 

He grinned. 

“Kakarot, what are you doing here, you’re not scheduled for today?” Vegeta’s voice cut through his internal moment of triumph, and Goku spun right around in his chair, looking up at him. Behind Vegeta was Turles, looking fresh out of his eight month stint in jail. 

“Come with me Turles,” Vegeta Senior stood, motioning to him and brushing passed Goku. He stopped short for just a brief moment, turning his attention back down at him, “remember what I said,” he reminded him and then pointed at the returning member of their so-called family. Turles was back under their watch, supposedly. Goku didn’t know what he did and he wasn’t gonna ask. 

He was more focused on Vegeta, scooting closer toward him in the wheeled chair. “Heya,” he started, coming right up to him, with the back of the chair almost touching him. He looked directly up at him and smiled a bit. “You blocked me, so I came to make you unblock me.” 

“...They made the block feature for the purpose of giving me the option to escape you.” 

“Yeah, but that’s not fair. I ain’t done anything.” 

“You’re harassing me.” 

“Nuh uh. If I was harassing you for real, you’d have already kicked me out.” 

“Then let’s get to that part, shall we? Go home, already, will you? Don’t you have other things to do?” Vegeta stepped away from the office, and briskly stalked off. But Goku hopped off the chair without a second thought, leaving it in the office doorway. He followed on Vegeta’s heels, right through the parlor and toward the steps that took them both into the area that was meant to be largely employees only. Vegeta never attempted to turn around and stop him. 

He’d been up here a few times already, he didn’t expect him to really stop him. Vegeta was just playing it up, like he usually did. Vegeta didn’t even look over his shoulder to verify whether or not Goku was behind him still, but the sounds of their steps on the stairs would make it difficult to believe he didn’t know just where he was.

The upstairs, Goku learned, had originally been apartments, that were converted. Some of them were storage spaces and a few of the walls were taken down to open up space for upstairs work spaces—Vegeta said it was for customers who wanted more privacy, or for when Turles did his more...extreme body modifications that weren’t as comfortable to have more people around for. Goku liked the down stairs for it being open. Everyone interacted, even if much of it was at the expense of each other.

Upstairs was isolated. But it also served as a home for a few of the people who worked there. Some of the apartment rooms still were in use as actual rooms. Vegeta’s room was the farthest one at the end of the upstairs hall. Goku knew that’s where he was going and he wasn’t being shrugged off, so he continued right behind him. Vegeta was never shy about telling him how he really felt, though Goku largely played dumb about when to back off and when to continue his prodding. Sometimes he thought maybe Vegeta just liked being bothered more than he’d admit. Or maybe Vegeta was just accustomed to being bothered. One way or another, Goku was following him into the far room—not even worrying about having the threat of the door closing on him, Vegeta just left it open.

Keys clunked on a hard top table and Vegeta emptied the contents of his pockets. He barely offered his attention to Goku, preferring to tinker around on the dresser while Goku came in and tactlessly flopped right on his bed—folding his legs to have a cozy sit and watch him try to ignore the Goku in the room. He was much harder to ignore than Vegeta wanted him to be. They both knew it. It wasn’t all on accident. Some of his behaviors were done with intention, Vegeta was just fun to play with. Even if Vegeta thought he was always trying to hassle him. He wasn’t Turles, though. He wasn’t being mean about it.

“So, what do you want?” Vegeta finally caved, after he ran out of things to straighten on his dresser. “Aside from me unblocking you, because every time I give you a tiny bit of wiggle room, you take the whole thing.”

“You’ll let me come over, but I can’t send you messages—that’s dumb…!” Goku pouted, hooking his hands under his ankles and leaning forward. 

“You send me messages and I have to witness them with my own two eyes. At least in person I can pretend I didn’t hear the things you’ve said.”

“Is it really because I told you that you’re really good? Most people like to hear stuff like that...I don’t understand why you wouldn’t wanna be told that. Do you wanna be told you’re terrible? You into bein’ lied to? Or somehin’?”

Vegeta’s silence held for only a second before he snapped a reply, turning to face him. “Kakarot, this is a record for how fast I’m done with your shit.”

“C’mon. What’s the problem—“

“You are being the problem right now, if you want the truth. I’m close to firing you as a client.”

“You won’t.”

“I will.”

“Nah. You won’t. You’re not done yet. You wouldn’t let someone else finish this up. Would you?” Goku raised a brow, watching Vegeta’s face carefully. He pressed buttons—bashing them forcefully. Vegeta’s father told him not to push, but Goku thought he needed a little bit of something. 

A low growl came from Vegeta and he could see his nose curl a little, even though Vegeta was clearly trying to hide his reaction. He was bad at it, really, even though he tried to be passive all the time. Vegeta’s own face betrayed him and he was very expressive—he was very emotive in general, and Goku, while not always super observant, noticed some of his more apparent habits. Defensive hissing and eyes flicking to and from a target that offended him. Sometimes he could catch him flexing his fingers and balling his fists. At that moment, he had a pen in his hand he was threatening to twist until it cracked from the tension. 

“I don’t care what happens,” he lied and they both understood the blustering for what it was. Usually, it wasn’t called out. Goku was just going to play the game differently for a change. Sorry, Vegeta Senior. But, he had a much better idea than to let him drown himself. He’d throw him an oxygen tank and make a wager on him not getting the bends in coming back up.

“Maybe I’ll get your dad to finish it then,” he threw out there,” like blowing on the flame, and watching it billow. 

“Fucking excuse you—“

“Yeah, you totally seem to think you can’t do what he does anyway...maybe he’ll hook me up, yeah? I mean, I’d have to really sweet talk him but…”

“Kakarot, what the fuck do you think you’re doing,” Vegeta stepped closer, standing at the edge of the bed, looking over him—trying to appear threatening. But the truth was more that Vegeta was feeling threatened and Goku finally got it. He couldn’t help but grin at him for it. That only served to really make Vegeta mad at him. “How dare you smile at me, you dumb son of a—“

“If you’re so insecure, why don’t you just pick somethin’ else for a bit and show him up in that? Instead of tryin’a outdo his freehandin’ stuff right now, when he’s got like, a whole life head start on ya? That’s like...I dunno, when I got kicked in the head cuz my legs were shorter than my opponent’s. My opponent’s legs were long cuz he was older right? Just practice and then come back to it, and try somethin’ else?”

“You—“ Vegeta started, prepared to yell at him, before he paused. Goku could almost see his brain skipping from considering the information and the concept of...not being stuck to one thing. But Vegeta was obsessive and that was a hangup that he was never likely to get over unless he was incentivized to break away from. If left alone, Vegeta would continue to be stuck to a singular path. Goku could understand the single mindedness. He could be that way, himself; especially when fights were concerned. Only one thing mattered and anything else was background noise. “Saying that, makes everything I’ve done, worthless, you buffoon.”

“No way, you’re not throwing it out, just putting it away until you’re ready for it. You’re gonna take your skills and K.O. with ‘em, but maybe not til you’re happy with it. You can do other stuff you are happy with in the meantime. Or at least stuff that yer really good at.”

“I’m not skilled with anything else,” he growled, grabbing Goku by the shirt and pulling him forward, glaring him down, but it did nothing to shake Goku’s intentions. He knew where he was going with it and Vegeta’s supposed insecurities were really just a severe lack of someone telling Vegeta he could do more. 

“Have you tried?”

“I...What?” Confusion was overtaking the angry snarl and Goku took the opportunity to unhook his hands from his ankles and loop his arms bravely around Vegeta’s waist. He was so distraught by his question—and how to react to it—that he did not shove Goku away immediately. He did not actually react to that at all. “Why would I have tried anything else, when I know I am capable of perfecting this, Kakarot—” He finally snapped, mouth twitching. 

“C’mon, you gotta have picked up on other stuff working with everyone else here. I betcha helped your dad do piercings right? That’s one of his things, innit? An’ Turles does...a lotta those things he does… An’ I know I seen you workin’ with Nappa.” 

“They are all artists, Kakarot.” 

Goku turned his face directly up, holding his own wrist with his hand, subtly forcing Vegeta closer to him. How Vegeta hadn’t snapped out of his incredibly narrowed focus on the topic to notice he was pressed right up against him, was a wonder, but he had zero intention of drawing attention to it. “So are you.” 

“I duplicate. I am not comfortable enough with putting anything original permanently on another person’s skin.” 

“You’re not born amazing...You gotta train. D’angelo didn’t become an amazing painter overnight y’know.” 

“...I think you mean Michelangelo…” 

“Yeah, that dude, or whatever. He did a lotta different stuff right. Didn’t he paint and draw and like make statues and stuff? Maybe he did that to keep it from getting to him?” 

“Says the guy who just fights things all the time, where’s your variety, Kakarot?” Vegeta’s fist in his shirt loosened, but his scowl didn’t lighten much. The skepticism was just part of Vegeta. If he wasn’t at the very peak of performance, then he pushed himself until he was a detriment to himself. Goku could see it, in his near perfect attention to fine details. Once he felt he could convert that to his own stuff, he’d be invincible. 

“Hey, I travel a lot. It’s not really a skill, but it’s somethin’ I do.” He was also highly skilled at pushing buttons, but he didn’t actually speak that one out loud. “Can’t fight all the time, y’know. Need a break, so when I am fightin’, I’m at peak. If ya go all the time at the same thing, I imagine ya start to feel drained. Stuff comes much easier when you’re enjoyin’ it, right?” 

The slow blink he received had the connotation of words smacking home. Vegeta had possibly never considered that maybe he was burning himself out with his constant repetition, but that’s what it looked like to Goku. That’s what it felt like, even from secondhand. Especially to hear his father say he was even worse when Goku left; that sounded so exhausting. Peeking around his room, Goku could see sketchbooks stacked on every flat surface. The only person harassing Vegeta’s insecurities was Vegeta. Changing it up would help and he needed to be shoved into it a little bit. If magic words were what he needed, then Goku knew a few. And he’d been around the bunch of them enough to get the idea of what worked best. 

Vegeta inhaled, his face open and watching him—eyes shifting back and forth. Slowly the wheels started to turn again and he realized how close they were. Every emotion he had before shifted, hard wheeled in another direction and he sputtered, freezing in place. However, he didn’t get a chance to contest a thing about it, before Goku spoke again—hugging him more blatantly. 

“Unless you don’t think yer capable of learnin’ anything else,” he grinned, showing teeth and issuing a direct challenge. His magic words weren’t inspirational or encouraging. They were taken directly from the shit-talking book of Turles, because he knew they worked. He met Vegeta that way and he knew Vegeta’s buttons were fragile and based around his ego. He’d ignore his encroached-upon personal space for the sake of his ego. 

Like a perfectly performed stage trick, it worked.

“Excuse you...I have little experience in other things, that doesn’t mean I can’t, you fucking animal,” Vegeta’s face came so close to Goku’s that he could feel his breath and it did nothing to intimidate him. All of his loud barking amounted to reaction and little else, but Goku was aiming for it. He wanted to get him fired up on purpose. If Vegeta wasn’t in his face, then he failed. 

“Then prove it,” he continued to provoke, unfolding his legs and hanging them over the side of the bed, snaking his arms further around him and bringing him right to his chest. The action was just an embrace, he obviously had no ill intentions by it. It just so happened that Vegeta’s face was already so close to his own. His mouth was right there, by chance. His sincere lack of aim kept him from getting thrown across the room by an easily flustered artist. At least, that’s the way he left it to appear after a moment, when he turned his cheek to press into his and left Vegeta’s mouth free for the hissing he knew he’d receive. 

Vegeta bristled for a few minutes, flustered and puffing with each attempt to start speaking. Goku just kept his arms around him and felt for every twitch and bashful shudder he made when he even slightly mushed his cheek with his own. He was doing it on purpose to watch Vegeta’s thought process crash each time he thought he had a good start. When he thought he had a grip, Goku would hug him just a little bit tighter, and feel him sputter again. 

That didn’t last forever, of course. Vegeta finally managed to get himself together, gritted his teeth and hissed in his ear. “Just how much pain tolerance do you have, Kakarot?” 

“I dunno, a lo—” 

Trick question. Vegeta clocked him in the side of his head with a fist and he had to admit he deserved it, a little bit. His knuckles took his temple at an angle that did leave a few stars floating in his vision. It didn’t hurt as badly as he imagined Vegeta could have made it, but it shocked him and he whined loudly at him. “Ow—” 

“Come in here and talk at me like this and then have the nerve to—I should block you in reality and never allow you back.” 

“Don’t be like that...I didn’t mean nothing by it,” he still didn’t release him and Vegeta didn’t step away or push him off—even if he still had a sour expression. 

“So are you going to be my plaything, Kakarot? Since you think I should try new things, it sounds like you want me to try new things to you, hm?” Narrowed eyes and thin, drawn lips led Goku to believe that Vegeta thought he wasn’t going to just go with it, but Goku raised both brows and shot right back at him. 

“Well yeah. The whole idea is to get you to eventually add more stuff to me later. If you don’t get over all this stuff now, you won’t ever do that, so yeah. Mess me up, ‘Geta. No pain no gain, right?”

Vegeta stared down at him for a long moment, mouth open, unable to formulate words in response to him. His eventual response was to just put his hand over Goku’s face and push his head away so he didn’t have to actually look at him. That was fine too, Goku won the battle Vegeta didn’t know they were having and whatever Vegeta decided he wanted to try, he’d give it a go. 

Maybe one day he could ask him about his tattoos without him shutting him down immediately in self defense, but for the time being. Progress was made.


	4. Rings and Chains

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theme: Pain Kink

“Don’t fidget, Kakarot, if it’s not even, I’m going to be angry.” 

“Sorry, I’m not used to sitting still for so long,” Goku frowned, head tilted back to be out of Vegeta’s way. Staring up at the light for so long made him eventually submit to closing his eyes and fiddling with whatever his fingers could reach—currently the fabric of Vegeta’s bedspread. The light was lower than in the parlor, but Vegeta had been insistent on the change in location. This project wasn’t a paid one, Goku was his test subject. His art piece. He had the camera from downstairs and prefaced his pitch to Goku by telling him he was aiming for putting it in the parlor portfolio. 

“The hell you aren’t, you’ve sat still for hours on end when I’ve tattooed your back, this is hardly even comparable to that, you dunce. If anything, this will take considerably less time than that, since you’ve still got more sessions to go with that.” 

“Yeah, but that’s different, you’ve got me turned over and I can still play on my phone and tinker around online and look at stuff. You got me staring at lights and I can’t move my head when you’re pokin’ me—” 

Vegeta put a hand on his shoulder and held him still, straightening him and moving back to make sure he was sitting at a perfect angle again. Goku wasn’t very good for being perfectly still for long and they both knew it, but Vegeta had chosen this particular modification on purpose—it was temporary. It was entirely for show and it would heal without scarring if Goku did what he told him to and Goku was generally very good about that. Vegeta Senior had done this before, he’d seen it, and his son researched it few times, while Goku was with him. He could do this, relatively easily, he said. Goku said he had a high pain tolerance, and he was out to prove it.

“If you’d let me use different needles and didn’t get all squicky on me over the other ones, this would have been quicker, but here we are,” he mumbled, putting two fingers under his chin to keep his head tilted back to break skin on the fifth spot and keep Goku from shifting and disrupting his alignment. 

“I dun’ like it when they look like they should be in a hospital is all, ‘m not here for a shot,” Goku mumbled, not able to speak completely with his head back. Vegeta was only putting a few rings in his neck, three on each side before they hit the collar bone. Then maybe he would be able to lower his head a little bit. Vegeta called it a corset piercing and when he first showed it to him, he wasn’t so sure about it, because he didn’t think something that...lacy would look right on him. He was a big guy with a lot of muscle, but then Vegeta showed him that he could put chains with it instead. Or chinese tassels that could match the bits of his tattoo that showed over the edge of his shoulder. Vegeta had a harder time selling the look of it to him than the pain factor. 

But, he did say he’d try whatever Vegeta was willing to branch out to do and if that was his flex, then he’d cracked his knuckles and prepared himself. He just hadn’t realized it wouldn’t be that quick of a procedure. It wasn’t a tattoo, so he thought it would be faster. But Vegeta took care in everything he did. Everything was laid out meticulously and each individual piercing was done with more care than he’d seen anyone else ever do. He’d seen Turles basically carve people up like Christmas hams, but Vegeta operated under the idea that he was above the rest of them. 

“Next one, don’t talk,” came the command, and Goku was silent, to keep any motion in his neck from displacing anything. The sharpness that came from having metal rings stuck through his skin...left a sensation other than burning that he didn’t quite have an explanation for. He didn’t feel any tension when Vegeta went to place the next one. The piercings hurt, but they weren’t the kind of hurt he flinched from. When he closed his eyes, and parted his lips, he imagined Vegeta’s face, focused on the placement of each piece. The satisfaction of Vegeta doing something of his own, because of his own goading may have played some part in his excitement, but he thought—for a moment—he might actually just enjoy Vegeta’s choice of art. 

Temporary meant that he wouldn’t have to wear it but for a few hours, but he would still have had the experience of him doing it. Vegeta could always do it again. He could practice it again. It was perfect for him. Unlike the permanency of a tattoo, if he misplaced it, he didn’t have to look at it forever, being wrong. Not that Vegeta would ever accept less than a perfect first attempt. Goku smiled at it. 

“It’s a shame your whole back is mostly covered already this would have looked interesting in certain places over the dragon, but I am not blemishing my dragon,” Vegeta commented, letting go of Goku’s chin and allowing him let his head down a little bit. 

“Oh? So it’s your dragon now, huh?” Goku raised a brow at him, wanting to touch the sore spots on his neck and feel at the metal rings hooked through his flesh—but resisting, knowing Vegeta would probably punch him in the nose. 

“Yes, I’ve devoted more hours of my life to it, than anything else, it’s mine.”

“I dunno, still think you should add your own flare to it, before it’s truly yours,” Goku knew it was brave to instigate him when he had a sharp object at his neck, but his casual nature about it couldn’t let a perfect opportunity just slip out of his fingers when it came to Vegeta—as if designed by nature to needle Vegeta back as much as Vegeta was literally needling him. 

“I will just cut the damn thing off you,” Vegeta eyed him, cleaning another spot under his neck. He was being meticulous. But to his credit, Goku didn’t feel any bit of real discomfort with anything that Vegeta did. Maybe if it had been a year go, when he’d first showed up. After as year of having the same man inject ink into him, he’d come to trust just about anything he’d do. Even if he wasn’t so sure he’d look very good in it. Vegeta was the one who had the mental idea of aesthetics, not Goku. Goku hit things with his fists. Vegeta was the one who did the art thing. Though there was some questioning his choices, when he often could be seen in a pink button up shirt, sleeves rolled up, that said “Bad Man” on the back of it. 

“You can cut it out in a pretty pattern like Turles does, that’s that scarring thing he does right?” He purposefully sounded more cheerful than he knew Vegeta wanted him to be. That was his weapon against all of Vegeta’s threats. It dismantled him quickly. 

“Yeah, except he’s a savage and his clients are all animals. I mean, you are too, but I highly doubt you’d let me do something that extreme to you, anyway,” Vegeta shook his head, turning all of his focus back to the next ring and prepping to pierce. He didn’t bother to baby Goku anymore and Goku didn’t mind it, not always knowing exactly when he was supposed to expect the sharp sting and then wait for the next one. Once he was off of his neck, he didn’t need to worry as much about him moving into his work space and each moment never lasted very long. Vegeta said the only reason he felt much of it at all, was because the skin wasn’t commonly pierced skin. Vegeta had to finagle with it a little bit. That was fine. 

“I mean, if you really wanted to do it, I’d probably let ya, but you don’t seem like the type who’d like ta get that messy. An’ Turles always looks like he’s conducted surgery when he does that stuff,” Goku explained, having seen it a few times, when Turles had been upstairs doing a scarification that they happened to walk past, in transit to get supplies from the upstairs room. Goku had been hanging around so long, he’d just started to become an extra pair of hands at a point. He didn’t even notice the Employees only sign anymore, he was basically an honorary member of the parlor—much to the dismay of both Vegetas probably. The father and son had a very identical exasperation about them whenever Goku opened his mouth and started talking for more than five minutes. 

But neither had kicked him out yet, so he kept showing up. 

And he was sitting on Vegeta’s bed, letting him stick piercing after piercing into his chest, so he could shove chains through metal rings. Something was really weird about it and, at the same time, really appealing. He couldn’t tilt his head to watch Vegeta, still having to keep his head back a little but, but he looked down the best he could to see the sheer scale of concentration on Vegeta’s face. His focus was attractive. The quality of his obsession was remarkably spent on everything he did and Goku thought it was a shame he was still hesitant to just go for it and add to his dragon. He’d get there. He’d have to. Goku wouldn’t let up on it. 

“You’re havin’ a good time putting holes in me, aren’tcha?” 

“I could do this all day,” he answered and Goku believed him, feeling another brief needle and the weight of a ring. “I could just lace you up from here to your groin, if I was really feeling squirrely. I’m not going that far down though, because I want this to look appealing and also, you’re gigantic. The size of your chest is like, two of me.” 

“Nuh uh, you’re pretty beefy too, you just hide it behind pink button-ups and oversized t-shirts.” 

“Everything is an oversized fucking T-shirt, Kakarot, when a small is big on me, who the fuck invented the size scaling. I am not shopping in the child’s section.” 

“There’s always women’s—” 

Vegeta looked him directly in the face—eye to eye—without a moment to breach contact and Goku had no idea to expect Vegeta’s retaliation. But he sure did feel it. It was the first of the multitude of piercings along the corset he’d done, that made Goku actually yelp; and it came out more like a weird squawk. Vegeta sat back after he put the ring in and Goku lifted a hand up, brain fizzing to catch up with the shock of Vegeta’s counter attack. He put his hand over his chest, not actually touching it, but confirming that he did actually— 

“Did you just—” 

“Alright, now for the other nipple.” He looked so pleased with himself, though paused, tilting his head, “...Also, are you fucking blushing?” 

“W—what, nah—I just didn’t expect that—” 

Vegeta shifted his position and Goku felt a little twist in his gut. “Really now? So you’ll be perfectly fine now that you expect it? It wouldn’t hurt as bad for the second one when I prep, I did it that way on purpose to be a dick, but...I think you fucking like it.” 

“I—That’s...Why would I…” Goku could feel his own face getting warm and Vegeta set his work materials down to get into his face, smirking at the discomfort he cornered him into. Vegeta rarely got his victories and apparently he was taking this one with a vengeance. “It’s...just that...I...doesn’t...bother me...is aLL—” His voice pitched loudly, tapering off the end of his words, and he almost bit through his bottom lip to feel Vegeta’s hand being shoved up between his legs. 

“You going to try and convince me this isn’t ‘into it’, Kakarot.” 

“Um—”

“I guess it’s a good thing we brought this to my room. I don’t need you popping boners downstairs. I’d never hear the end of it... from any of them, actually. Keep it classy, my father says. I’m trying to be good and here you are—” 

Goku immediately jumped to respond, face hotter than before and heart jumping more heavily, “you have your hand in my stuff and you’re being good—” 

“Coming from the man who gets into my space at every convenient opportunity?” Vegeta moved close, just barely a space from his face. Within such a short period, Goku had been knocked out of his vantage point. Vegeta had overthrown him and he saw just how formidable of a foe he could be when he caught a hint of weakness. 

“I’m just playin’—” 

“Oh? And what if I’m just playing?” Vegeta edged away and leaned forward, settling between his knees. He folded his arms, craning his head back to watch Goku dying—heart straining from Vegeta turning the tables on him so hard. Vegeta didn’t play back. He couldn’t hide from him when he was right there, wedged between his thighs, with a hand messing with the waistband of his pants. It did absolutely nothing to calm him—down. 

He stammered at him, trying to dissolve it harmlessly. “L...listen, it’s just, a thing that happens sometimes...Sometimes when I’m fightin’, just… It’s not—” 

“You fuckin’ pain junkie. Get punched a few times and you get a stiffie? No wonder your martial arts uniform looks like a clown outfit. No one can see that you’re raging when someone’s pummeling you.” 

Goku nearly covered his face, whining at him, mouth turned down steeply at the corners. “I thought they said you were the prude—this is not that at all—. I don’t know a lotta words, but this isn’t that—” 

“It’s effective against you and it’s giving me a remarkable high. Like crack, only I won’t have to pay Turles for it and honestly, I’m reconsidering the seriousness of what was originally a tasteless joke. Murdering you with my own hands might be worth it. Metaphorically of course. You’ll live. But at what cost. I mean, not monetary, don’t mistake that, you thick nugget, I’m not a prostitute.” 

Goku stared at him, brows turning together in confusion for a long moment before his mouth opened helplessly. Once again, Vegeta did nothing to help him settle down and he felt like his whole body was tense, and squirming with Vegeta right there in his lap was just going to make the whole thing worse. “You really shou—” 

“You can say no, but are you going to?” Vegeta leaned an elbow against his thigh and reached that arm out to press a gloved finger right into his stomach, drawing a line down. He won at that very moment, because Goku said nothing. How could he, with Vegeta in his lap, like that, fully aware of what he was doing. “I have a dozen more rings to put into you, chains to apply, and then I can show you off. I can’t do all that with you squirming, can I?” 

“—Sounds like bullshit—” 

“Hey, none of that, you aren’t allowed to speak shit words like that. It ruins the good boy image. Now shut up, and let me work.” 

Goku submitted to turning his head back toward the ceiling and closing his eyes, but this time he covered his face with his hands in Vegeta’s initial attack. Every other time, being tattooed by Vegeta, he wasn’t facing him. This time he was at his mercy and unexpectedly betrayed himself. 

The worst part of it all, was that Vegeta was a perfectionist at everything. He was going to die. And he was not about to stop it from happening.


	5. Fine Details

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theme: I love You

“Huh, this is actually really well done, there’s very little pinch bruising, if any at all. The redness is normal, given irritation from puncturing such sensitive skin up here, but even that’s relatively minimal. I’m quite impressed...partially that you actually managed to get him to hold still long enough to hook this many of them without him pulling one. He probably saw that fourteen gauge and had a moment of rethinking this decision,” Vegeta Senior commented, looking over the finished product of his son’s experiment on Goku’s body. 

Vegeta brought him down after he was finally pleased with his end result—. A total of twenty six captive bead rings had been temporarily hooked through his skin, by Vegeta’s design, so he could run a chain through them. Only seeing the pictures on the internet of it done with lace, didn’t really give him a great idea of what it would look like with the chain, and he didn’t really visualize things well; but when he finally did see the end result, he had to admit, it looked pretty cool. Itched like hell, but he didn’t dare touch it. Vegeta said it was a temporary and that he would remove them after they were done photographing them. 

They had already taken a few photos, but the lighting was better downstairs; and Goku, being Goku, really wanted to show them what Vegeta did. Vegeta’s protests went hotly ignored—Goku had to find some immediate counter to what Vegeta just did to him, after all. Their battling back and forth wasn’t done and Goku’s retaliation was in immediately forcing the praise on Vegeta that he knew he deserved for his accomplishment. 

He made a corset piercing array with chains crossing over his neck and dangling from his nipples look moderately awesome, and he wanted it to be seen. Goku stood proudly, with his fists perched on his hips, displaying Vegeta’s slightly kinky handiwork. Even Turles couldn’t find a snarky comment to throw at Vegeta, not without indirectly insulting himself in the process. He and Goku were nearly body twins. Turles had hardly the ability to say he didn’t look good without admitting the look didn’t work for him either. 

“I’ll be damned, there’s some talent in there somewhere after all, Junior,” Turles sneered a little bit, peering over and looking over the same points Vegeta Senior was. Both were more familiar with display works, as opposed to permanent modifications and both of them showed their approval. 

Goku almost expected Vegeta to be angry about it, because he didn’t ever take compliments well before, but, he was pleasantly surprised to see Vegeta was more taken back by the reception than anything else. He may have been entirely focused on the range of expressions he saw on Vegeta’s face as each person spoke about it. When Turles said he had some talent, Vegeta’s mouth twitched to an actual smirk for a second—though it flattened to hide his triumph.

“I don’t think I could have done this better, you have excellent precision,” Vegeta Senior praised, finally. In the whole time Goku had been around, he’d never actually seen Vegeta make the kind of face he made in response to those words. A real smile? Goku was relieved to know his face could do that, fleeting as it was—settling back into his usual passive face quickly. 

Aha, the real magic words were the ones only his father had, after all. 

“Kakarot made it easy,” Vegeta commented, deflecting some of the compliments, but he was soaking in some of them and Goku was so pleased to see it. “He’s apparently fairly receptive to piercings. He doesn’t know it yet, but he’s keeping the nipple piercings. As tokens of my handiwork.” Vegeta grinned and Goku swished his head toward him and blinked at him, cheeks puffing—apparently, Vegeta was still in the game of battling with him.

“You never said anything about that!” He argued, looking down the front of his chest, imagining the metal rings being there permanently. 

“Don’t worry, I was going to switch you to a barbell afterwards. It’ll be incentive for you to learn how to not take punches to the nips, Kakarot. If you can learn to dodge, you’ll be much better in your tournaments. Maybe I’ll actually come watch you.” 

Goku looked up at him, face smoothing out from its momentary dismay. He’d mentioned, of course, that he did fight for sport and that had been the cause of his extended absence for weeks on end at times. Goku had invited Vegeta to come, but he never did. If he did come, Goku might fight just a little harder. “I wish you would,” he tilted his head and flicked a chain, letting them clatter together over his chest. “But only when the dragon is done. So when I run in there topless, everyone can see your masterpiece.” 

“I still have a good way to go on it, but I’ll consider it at that time,” Vegeta agreed, coming over to him to make sure all the chains were still straight. Nappa was setting a space to photograph him without much interference in the background. Vegeta was a perfectionist and wanted to have photographs without any distractions behind his subject. None of them were professional photographers, but Nappa was the best at faking it. Vegeta said he was a big blockhead, but he seemed to be pretty good at what he did do; and Turles was just cheeky enough to find a black jacket for Goku to wiggle into and leave open—just to add some contrast and frame the jewelry. Vegeta said it was a fetish, but Goku thought it looked cool anyway. 

“Maybe by then, I’ll have convinced you to add a few more things to it,” Goku wiggled a little bit, lightly stepping on Vegeta’s toes while his mood was still lifted a little. He could see Vegeta Senior’s head turn, but he shifted away, so he could pretend that he didn’t catch the subtle warning. Provoking Vegeta was what he did. 

“You don’t relent, do you?” Vegeta shot a look up at him and cuffed him right upside the head with his knuckles. 

“What? I didn’t say immediately! Maybe later on you won’t feel so nervous about it. I want you to feel comfortable when you add your own stuff to it.” 

Turles snorted besides them and leaned around to look at Goku. It confused Goku for a moment and he tilted his head at him, but his lookalike just laughed in response. Turles never had good intentions for anything he did, but he appeared to know something that Goku didn’t and that captured his attention very easily. Especially when he glanced at Vegeta and the corner of his mouth curled into a smirk. 

“Turles—” Vegeta started, but he didn’t get anywhere else with that. 

“What are you talking about, Kakarot? He’s been adding his own stuff to it for a while now. I mean, it would make sense you haven’t been able to see it yet, it’s all in fine detail, in the middle of your back and he hasn’t given you really good pictures yet.” 

Goku’s head nearly snapped off his neck for how quickly his head turned to face Vegeta. He couldn’t even fathom that really being the truth—Turles had to be messing with them for the sake of it, but when he saw Vegeta’s face...He understood that Turles wasn’t fabricating his claim. For all the small details of the dragon that he requested Vegeta to tattoo on his back, he easily could have hidden things among it and Goku might never have noticed during the process—simply for Goku’s usual lack of focus or attention to minute detail. He was in awe of the big picture that came together from all of Vegeta’s obsessive work. 

But then why did he adamantly refuse… He wouldn’t even hear of it before, but if he had been doing it anyway, all along then why—

“Vegeta—” 

“Turles, I am about to send you to a fucking morgue—.” 

The threat only served to make the man howl with laughter, leaning back and covering his face with a hand. Goku glanced between Turles and Vegeta, and felt more and more confused and eventually settled on Vegeta—staring him down for an answer. An answer wasn’t coming at any expedited rate, however. Vegeta refused any eye contact with him and his face was darkening in shades of red, all the way to his ears. 

“This talentless little shit probably could do all sorts of extra shit on you, but he’s too self conscious and busy being passive aggressive with his little love notes. If he goes full out in the open, then he might have to admit that it means more. Shit, this pitiful little fucker actually hid the character for love right between the scales under the shoulder blades, I noticed that one the last time I saw it—”

Vegeta decided he had enough and launched himself at Turles, wrapping his legs around his neck in a display that had Goku really actually very impressed. It required Vegeta to jump off a chair and throw Turles down, taking them both to the floor—and it was quite fortunate that neither of them got hurt in the process—but Vegeta proved, in that brief moment, that he would have made a pretty good wrestler if he really wanted to be. Maybe a bit small for it, but he had compact ferocity. He was also operating on some next level embarrassment, but Goku was just puffy enough to not save him from it. Maybe he deserved Turles a little bit, this time. 

And despite the assault, Turles wasn’t turned off from digging into Vegeta harder, he just had to wrestle him to keep him from killing him viciously. “And he didn’t want daddy to see him working on original art and realizing his baby boy is drawing big ol’ ‘I love you’s all over his big beefy boyfriend—” 

The sound of Vegeta Senior dropping something coincided with his son’s shrieking and Goku, despite his jumping heart rate...couldn’t help but start to laugh alongside Nappa and Turles. Turles didn’t get to maintain the laughter, through the choking hands around his neck. Vegeta’s face was so red that Goku thought he might actually run away at any second—like a skittish cat. That was, of course, if he decided that was more important to him than murdering Turles. 

It appeared that homicide was on the top of the list and the only saving grace for Turles, was Nappa peeling Vegeta off him, “C’mon, we don’t wanna have to bail ya out over him, do we?” 

“He better sleep with both eyes open—”

“That’s better,” Nappa grinned, the large man had lifted Vegeta up like he weighed nothing and, under normal circumstances, Vegeta would have probably kicked him in the face for such an action; but he was already extremely fluffed from Turles and barely registered Nappa beyond him turning and setting him down in front of Goku. 

“Turles, you still alive? You know you shouldn’t do that.” 

“Can’t get a high without a risk of death,” Turles cackled from the floor and let Nappa pick him up and take him to sit down and make sure he wasn’t actually suffering any real damage—not that it was entirely undeserved. Turles was proud of himself, however, and readily went along with him, to leave Goku and Vegeta alone for a few minutes. Much to Vegeta’s clear dismay. He didn’t face Goku, turning to his side a bit and looking somewhere else. Anywhere else. 

“...Well, I can’t wait to see it when you’re done now,” Goku started, “guess that’s why you didn’t wanna do nothin’ else...Hah,” he rubbed the back of his neck, waiting for Vegeta to come around. “Probably tired of doin’ all the stuff you were already doin’...” 

“That’s not it, you big fucking buffoon,” Vegeta rubbed his face finally, but still didn’t look at him. 

“But what...Turles said—” 

“I can’t figure out what I want to do. I have a dozen sketch books and nothing is satisfactory. It’s different when you have the design already there or an idea, but you want me to think of something. And you want me to just put something on you. Add your own flare, this big dumbass says. What flare? The theme is already overwhelmingly taken up on you.” 

“Why didn’t you say that…?” Goku softened a little, smiling that he finally got him to actually talk. It just took Turles destroying him a little bit. 

“Because why the fuck would admit to your face that I think that much about you—” Vegeta yelled in his face, having to tip up to meet his gaze and make up for their height difference. 

“I mean, you just did, didn’t you?” 

“Kakarot,” he lowered his voice a touch to exclude others from their orbit, “I also blew you in my bedroom, I don’t think it matters what I say anymore. I gave the damn thing my flare. It’s subtle, but it’s there. Isn’t that enough?” 

“I really want something that’s all you, though. What if I had something in mind, and you just made the picture all up on your own? That would be all you, wouldn’t it be? Then you’d do it?” 

“You really just don’t ever want to leave is what it is, isn’t it?” Vegeta finally took a long moment to look him right in the face and Goku found himself placing a hand on his shoulder, by his neck—nearly to the point of cradling the side of his face with his larger hand. 

“I want a sleeve.” 

“So yes, you’re going to be here for a long time.” 

Goku lifted the other arm to the other side of his face and Vegeta didn’t even try to stop him, even if his face was turning colors again. “I want two.” 

“Am I seriously going to have to get one of these motherfuckers ordained.” 

“I bet one of them probably already is,” Goku grinned, dipping his head a bit, almost surprised to not have any backlash from Vegeta for invading his personal space. He was taking the moment, because once it went away, he probably wouldn’t get it back so easily. Vegeta was flustered. Between the success of his accomplishment and Turles’ maximized antagonizing, his guards were lowered and Goku had a little wiggle room to gently draw him a few steps back, into the corner they were still planning to take pictures in whenever Turles recovered from his assault. 

Something was still funny about how angry Vegeta looked about Goku tipping his head to kiss him—even if he willingly participated. His brows turned together and he breathed into his mouth, acting offended and dismayed, but fully acted on it. Vegeta was fired up still, defensive, but begrudgingly committed to it. A little slip of tongue told him all of that. Goku played back and Vegeta’s teeth nipped his tongue, making him draw back to mumble at him. 

“I’m giving you a tongue piercing next.” 

“You’re just going to put holes in everything, aren’tcha?” Goku chuckled. 

“I might.” 

“Well, you can do whatever, but if you give me sleeves. Like yours.” 

Vegeta turned his face up, leaning back a bit, eyes wider and a single brow arched in a little confusion. Goku knew that he wouldn’t quite get what he meant by it. But Goku had already planned what he was gonna go with. Something that had infinite possibility to work with, that Vegeta could test himself against, and that had more design options than Goku could even imagine! Space. There had to be a reason Vegeta went with space. If Vegeta liked it enough for cosmic sleeves on both arms, then surely he could design some amazing ones of his own for Goku. 

“But...Why…” 

“Because I know you’ll have a huge amount of options, right? Besides, you had to have a reason for Space sleeves, yeah?” 

“...Because...I like spaceships. And no one’s gonna mess with a guy with cosmic fists.” 

Vegeta looked at him, studying his face, as though he was waiting for Goku to ask him for a deeper meaning, but Goku didn’t need a deeper meaning. That sounded like a pretty good reason to him. Vegeta didn’t look like anyone he’d wanna mess with most of the time—if he didn’t know him personally, he probably wouldn’t. If he hadn’t spent a year under a tattoo needle, he probably would have never considered crossing paths with the short grouchy guy in the pink “Bad Man” shirt with cosmic sleeve tattoos. Spending a year with Goku, may be part of the reason why Vegeta ever actually socialized at all, as well. 

“...So, will you think about it, Vegeta?” 

“Hmph...I’ll consider it.” 

Goku would have embraced him, but lacked the ability with so many holes in his skin and chains hanging down over his chest. Instead, he turned his cheek against Vegeta’s briefly—whispering briefly in his ear. It was very hushed, very short, but it was not missed and Vegeta’s reaction was enough to let Goku know he heard it. Vegeta opened his mouth to, most likely, shriek at him, but Turles’ came back into their corner before he could make any move against him—effectively startling Vegeta into elbowing him instantly. 

Turles reeled back and held his arms across his chest from the blow of that elbow, “—Ooof, yikes—ouch—did I miss the bride being kissed—” 

“TURLES—” 

Goku laughed. Feeling warm and happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the longest one of the Kakavege week bunch, and it took forever to edit so I hope it went smoothly and was an enjoyable read nonetheless!


End file.
